


Mint Chocolate

by CrownShyness



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fluff, Honeymoon, Idiots in Love, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 03:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrownShyness/pseuds/CrownShyness
Summary: Byleth is determined to get his husband Linhardt the perfect birthday gift, but it might be more difficult than he expects.





	Mint Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this because I have the same birthday as Linhardt, and he also happens to be my favorite character in Fire Emblem Three Houses. This is my first fic so feedback would be very much appreciated. I hope you enjoy!

Linhardt may have been the one to suggest a relaxing retreat to the countryside for the honeymoon, but it was Byleth who needed it most. The former professor would have thought he’d get a break a long time ago, considering all that had happened in the past few months. After all, taking down an empire, an underground conspiracy, and an ancient hero tended to tire one out, even if they  _ did  _ happen to be the living vessel of the Goddess. But upon his ascension to the throne as the leader of The United Kingdom of Fodlan, he was immediately met with a myriad of new duties and responsibilities that were required to run the new nation. And Linhardt’s proposal at the Goddess Tower, where the two men had exchanged confessions and rings, did not make things any easier. The wedding, at the couple’s request, was a short and simple ceremony. However, the preparations for the visit of Claude (the new King of Almyra,) Caspar (Linhardt’s best friend,) and the rest of Byleth’s former students were admittedly exhausting. Linhardt was so tired come the wedding day that Caspar had to convince him to stay for his own reception. Byleth smiled fondly at the memory as he looked at the brilliant emerald jewel resting on his hand; the ring his now husband had given him to seal his devotion. Of course, after the wedding, the announcement was made. As proud as he was to have married the love of his life, he worried about how the people of Fodlan would receive the fact that he had married another man, with whom he couldn’t produce an heir. But Byleth didn’t care about the opinions of the people nearly as much as he cared about Linhardt. He was irresistible; beautiful and serene. Byleth felt that their love was the greatest possible reward for their tireless efforts to bring a new dawn to Fodlan.

“Are you sure you want to go to the countryside during the Red Wolf Moon? The air will be chilly; certainly not ideal for napping outside,” Byleth had warned Linhardt when he suggested the idea.

“A shame, yes, but think about the benefits. Fishing in the afternoon, and once we get too cold, we’ll return to our cottage and warm up with tea beside the fireplace. That sounds lovely, does it not?” Linhardt mused as he leaned his head on Byleth’s shoulder.

Byleth smiled at the pleasant mental image. “As always, I can’t argue with your logic.” 

But it wasn’t the cold that was on his mind. It was the fact that Linhardt’s birthday was on the seventh of the Red Wolf Moon. The typically stoic man became extremely affectionate when it came to his husband, and he felt obligated to spoil him when the day came. He never had trouble with gift giving, but for Linhardt, it wasn’t merely the object that mattered. It was the thought and the timing. If the gift was not a surprise, he knew that the inattentive scholar would be terribly bored by it. So as not to leave any chance of Linhardt stumbling across the gifts early, Byleth planned to purchase them the day before his birthday, in the town closest to the place where they were honeymooning. Though small, the town specialized in producing luxury goods, so he’d be able to find a nice gift. He would tell Linhardt that he was going to get fishing supplies or ingredients. Still, he would have to disguise himself. The leader of a nation couldn’t exactly walk around a village market and expect to be left alone, especially with his distinctive pale green hair color. He figured a heavy cloak should do, so long as he remained vigilant. Though the plan was rather complex just to secure some birthday gifts, Byleth thought it was worth it. He couldn’t wait to see the rare energy in his husband’s eyes when he saw the gifts, and that was motivation enough for him.

Linhardt was gently awoken by Byleth when their coach arrived at the location of their humble getaway. It was a little cabin right at the edge of a clear lake, surrounded by oak trees shedding the last of their autumn colors. The sky was clear, and he thought the natural beauty of the area was well worth the chilly weather. He smiled at the thought of having Byleth all to himself in the little cabin. He had daydreamed about such a scenario for… longer than he liked to admit.  _ Was _ all this a dream? He half expected to wake up as a seventeen year old boy, back in his classroom at Garreg Mach. Professor Byleth would scold him for sleeping during another lecture, and he’d try to hide the slight blush that would come to his face. After all, he would have never expected to get anywhere with his professor as a mere student. But at the same time, Linhardt knew that none of this was a dream. He had experienced both the horror of war and the raw passion of love so vividly, it was impossible for him to have been sleeping. All naps aside, he felt more awake than ever.

The first slow days out on the lakefront were everything they wanted. The weather was beautiful, generous sunlight lessening the winter chill. Linhardt spent the mornings in and out of sleep, trying to convince Byleth to stay in bed with him rather than prepare breakfast. Some of the days, they went out fishing. Byleth lent Linhardt his cloak when he got too cold, and the Crest scholar couldn’t help but wonder if there was a connection to the Crest of Flames and the fact that his husband was seemingly unbothered by temperature. In the evenings they warmed up in each other’s arms, sipping tea and reading books. And at night they held each other close, long limbs tangled loosely on the small bed. Byleth would run his fingers through his husband’s long, forest green locks until he fell asleep. If Linhardt woke up during the night, he would admire the glow of his husband’s pale hair under the moonlight. The first few days were perfect…

...So perfect, in fact, that Byleth almost lost track of the time. If it wasn’t for the change in the weather, he might not have remembered. But now that it was the afternoon of the sixth and raining heavily, he realized that he had completely forgotten to get Linhardt’s birthday gifts. 

_ “Seiros, how could I forget?” _ Byleth scolded himself.

The rain was battering heavily on the roof, but his husband was napping peacefully in their bed. Unsurprising if not impressive; he could probably sleep through a hailstorm. How would he react if he woke up tomorrow and realized his own husband had forgotten his birthday? As much as Byleth loved Linhardt’s adorable little pout, he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing disappointment in his eyes. The sky was fading into the evening. The shops should be open for another few hours, but he should leave now if he wanted to be safe. If he took the horse, it shouldn’t be a long trip. Should he wake Linhardt? He was sleeping so peacefully, loose green hair flowing over his pillow. How could he shatter the pure, delicate expression on his porcelain face? And there was no way he could justify going to town this late in the afternoon, especially when they had plenty of cooking ingredients...

“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Byleth whispered to his sleeping husband, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Praying that Linhardt wouldn’t wake up before he returned, he put on a heavy hooded cloak. It would shield him from the blunt of the rain and serve as a disguise in town. What would he carry the gifts in once they were purchased? They would get soaked in a fabric bag. Scanning the room, a lidded metal bucket caught his eye. Perfect! Though he had brought it along to carry bait, it hadn’t been used yet (thank the Goddess.) Shoving a bag of coins into his cloak and putting on his hood, he headed straight out the door toward the cabin’s tiny stables. He quickly saddled up the small grey horse that resided there and before long was riding straight out into the rain.

Despite the fact that the rain was starting to soak through his cloak, Byleth was relieved to see warm light still glowing in the village’s windows. The town’s marketplace consisted of mostly indoor shops lining a broad street. Some villagers were shopping under the protection of canopies jutting over the storefronts. As expected, the outdoor stands were vacant due to the worsening rain. He dismounted the horse, tying it under a covered area, and started down the streets. Walking briskly, he scanned through the storefront windows for anything Linhardt might enjoy. A small bookstore was the first to catch his eye. After all, there were few things that the sleepy scholar loved more than books. He would even sniff them, taking in the scent of linen and ink before diving into the text. Byleth found it incredibly charming. Searching through the shop’s humble selection, he was drawn to a new book on constellations. Linhardt was quite fond of stargazing (if he was awake for the stars to come out, that is,) and reading about the history of the constellations and how the placement of the stars was determined would certainly entertain an intellectual like him. Byleth was quite fond of the stars himself, and imagining his husband reading passages from the book in his effortless, relaxed voice was enough to bring a blush to the stoic man’s face. With that, the decision was obvious.

Continuing down the street after buying the book, Byleth caught a sweet, warm scent coming from the building ahead-- a confectionery. It wasn’t a secret that Linhardt had a bit of a sweet tooth. Byleth adored the blissful expression on his face when he bit into a piece of chocolate (not to mention the sugary kisses that came after.) If Lin were a confection, Byleth thought, he would be mint chocolate; a smooth, languid demeanor paired with a sharp mind. Smiling at the mental comparison, he purchased a box of chocolates and placed them gently on top of the book in the bucket.

The light was now gone from the sky and the heavy rain had worsened into a storm. It seemed that shopping had taken longer than Byleth had anticipated. He had scoured the windows of each storefront he walked past, looking for one more thing to complete the gift. But after hours of searching, the shops were starting to close up, and he felt defeated. How is it that the ruler of the United Kingdom of Fodlan couldn’t find a suitable gift for his husband? Just as he was about to turn back, he heard a jovial female voice call out from up ahead.

“Rare items for sale! Ten percent off, only during thunderstorms!”

Byleth wondered who in the right mind would still tend an outdoor stand in such heavy rain as his curiosity led him to the travelling merchant. 

“Ooh, it looks like we have some business in this weather after all!” she smiled as he approached.

She looked strangely familiar; pinkish red hair tied up in a high ponytail, loose strands framing a mischievous face. Had he seen her somewhere before? Perhaps she had done business at Garreg Mach.

“My apologies, but I’m in a hurry. I was just taking a quick look,” the cloaked man said, making sure his hood was still secure.

“Well then, just tell me what you’re looking for! I probably have it.” she offered. The sly grin on her face put Byleth on edge, but he supposed her attitude was not uncommon for merchants.

“Well, I was actually hoping to find a gift for my--” he stopped himself before he could say “husband,” hoping to better protect his identity. After all, his recent marriage was still the talk of the kingdom.

“A gift, you say?” The mysterious saleswoman perked up, her finger tapping lightly on her chin. “Lucky for you, or should I say, for the future recipient, I have plenty of options! Jewelry, scented candles, silverware, premium tea…”

Tea, that’s it! How did he not think of it before? Linhardt was fond of angelica and Almyran pine; they had been his favorites since their days at the Officer’s Academy. Although they did have plenty of angelica tea, pine had been harder to come by.

“Do you happen to have an Almyran pine needle blend?” Byleth asked, interrupting the merchant as she continued listing off her wares.

“Of course! Coming right up!” she said, starting to dig around. Byleth hoped she would hurry up, as the stand didn’t offer him much cover from the rain. Finally, she fished out some bags that had a sweet, earthy aroma. Byleth hastily set the payment on the counter as he grabbed the tea. Now that he was satisfied with the gifts, he wanted to get out of the rain and back into bed with Linhardt as soon as possible. The longer he stayed there, the more guilty he felt.

“Woah, wait up!” the saleswoman shouted as he turned around.

“What is it?” he asked, trying to keep annoyance from creeping into his even voice.

“That ring of yours… how much would you be willing to sell it for?” she pointed at the green jewel that stood out over his gloved hand.

“Not for any amount of money. This ring is precious to me.” Byleth said defensively, clutching his finger.

“A shame. I suppose it  _ does  _ look good on you, though. It matches your eyes.” she smiled, and a shiver went down his spine.

“You know, come to think of it, you look familiar. Put your hood down, will you?” she drummed her fingers on the counter.

“I really must be going…” he started to walk off, but the merchant grabbed the edge of his hood as he turned away.

Byleth scrambled to put it back on, but it was too late. His pale green hair was too distinctive to be ignored; the only people who had hair and eyes like his were children of the Goddess. 

“I knew it! The ruler of the United Kingdom of Fodlan, shopping right here at my humble little stand!” the merchant called out, making sure everyone in their vicinity could hear.

How could a renowned former mercenary like Byleth let his guard down? And at a time like this…

Before he could make an escape, he was surrounded by almost the whole village, all eager to see their new ruler. The sly saleswoman was happily raking in cash from the villagers, as if she didn’t just invade someone’s privacy. She sure had guts, Byleth would give her that. But he needed to get back to the cabin. How would he do that without giving away both he and Linhardt’s location? He shivered at the thought of their honeymoon being ruined by paparazzi, and he knew that his recluse of a husband wouldn’t enjoy the noise. The storm was worsening, and it was late, but the crowd didn’t seem to care. Seiros, how was he going to get back?

Linhardt awoke to an especially loud clap of thunder. Groaning and squeezing his pillow, he turned his head toward Byleth. He jolted awake fully after realising that he wasn’t asleep beside him. Had he gone to relieve himself? The rain was pounding hard on the roof, and the cabin felt cold. Linhardt remained in the bed, expecting his husband to return to his side after a few minutes. 

_ “Leave it to a thunderstorm to wake me up at the worst moments,”  _ he thought, twisting a strand of forest green hair between his fingers and trying to remember when he had fallen asleep.

The only good thing about waking up in the middle of the night, he thought, was seeing the ever-alert warrior in such a vulnerable state. He would try not to wake him as he ran his fingers through his starlight hair and over his well-toned torso (what did he do to deserve such a perfect man?) His face looked so delicate while he slept…

Byleth still hadn’t returned. Linhardt sighed and got out of bed reluctantly. Slipping on a robe over his nightclothes, he lit a candle using fire magic.

“Byleth?” he called. No response.

“Are you feeling okay, love?” still, nothing.

He checked every room in the cabin, even the closets, but Byleth was nowhere to be seen. Holding the candle up to the clock, he noted that it was past ten. Seiros, what was he doing out this late, and in a thunderstorm no less? Was there an emergency in the kingdom that was so great that their honeymoon had to be interrupted? If so, why wouldn’t Byleth wake him up to alert him? Worry crept into Linhardt’s mind. Judging by the sound alone, the storm outside sounded harsh. What if there were bandits out there, waiting to ambush disoriented wanderers? He shook his head. What was there to worry about? His husband was a mighty warrior blessed by the Goddess. He had survived situations much more deadly. A storm surely wouldn’t kill him, and even if there  _ were  _ bandits out (which was unlikely considering the weather,) he could probably take them on alone. All that aside, there was the possibility that he had up and left him… Leave him? They had just gotten married, for the Goddess’s sake! The whole continent knew about it! Linhardt shook his head. Such illogical thoughts had no place in the mind of a scholar. Still, he worried for his husband. Should he go out and try to find him? As much as he hated the thought of staying put in a situation like this, he knew going out would be an awful idea. It was too dark to see, fire magic wouldn’t be of use in the heavy rain, and he didn’t want to entertain the idea of getting struck by lightning. He wasn’t as formidable as his husband; he would get himself lost if not killed. Still, going back to sleep felt wrong, and he was wide awake anyway. How unusual. He thought that he had abandoned worrying when the war ended, but he figured that when it came to Byleth, things were always different. Byleth… his transfixing green-eyed stare, his small smile that sometimes broke through his stern expression, his strong arms that held him so tightly. Linhardt was never one to fall in love easily, but the mysterious swordsman was intoxicating from the start. And he was still so very much in love with him; the kind of love that can make even a scholar forget all logic and reason. If he didn’t return, he wasn’t sure if he could bear it. To distract himself, Linhardt tried flipping through the books that he had brought along, but he couldn’t stop wondering how much longer it would be until his husband returned.

Mounting the grey horse once again, Byleth sped away from the town as fast as he could, praying to the Goddess or whoever may have been listening that it knew the way back to the cabin. How long had he entertained the villagers? Too long. But he couldn’t just leave after they had gone out in the rain to see him. And they were actually quite respectful, if not pushy. They had insisted on feeding him and asked him all kinds of questions about what he was doing in their town. He was sad that he couldn’t answer them truthfully. They insisted more than once that he should stay in town for the night, and he regretted being so harsh in his refusal. Keeping up appearances as a ruler was exhausting, and he could definitely understand why Linhardt went to such great lengths to stay out of the spotlight. Still, he shouldn’t have stayed so long. The storm was worse than ever now, and he had lost his cloak in the chaos. He scolded himself for letting his guard down. What was it about that spirited saleswoman that left him vulnerable? Because of her, he might not make it back tonight. It was too dark and the storm was cold and harsh. Temperature didn’t affect him easily, but he started to shiver. How much longer would it be? All he wanted to do was get into the warm cabin, change out of his wet clothes, and curl up in Linhardt’s arms. He clutched the handle of the bucket of gifts with one hand. It was likely that they were soaked through by now. If that was the case, his efforts would be wasted. Suddenly, a flash of lightning revealed for a split second the outline of a small cabin. He was almost there! A little longer, and he’d be back in his bed…

The sound of hoofbeats through the rain immediately shook Linhardt out of his train of thought. Was that Byleth? Even though he knew that he’d return, after two hours of waiting, he was more on edge than he’d been since the war. But there was nothing to worry about now. He would give Byleth a good scolding for scaring him and then all would be well. Rushing to the door, he opened it before Byleth had a chance to knock.

“Lin, you’re awake!” Byleth exclaimed, his eyes widening.

Linhardt hoped that the soft light of the candle didn’t reveal his blush. How did Byleth manage to look gorgeous even after he’d been wandering around in a storm, clothes wet and rain still dripping from his hair?

“Well, even  _ I  _ can’t stay asleep when my husband is off who knows where in a thunderstorm, on our honeymoon, and at  _ such  _ an ungodly hour!” Linhardt shouted, all the anxious thoughts that had built up in the past couple hours flooding out of his mouth.

“I- I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left--” Byleth stepped in and pushed the door closed behind him.

Linhardt pointed to the bait bucket that Byleth was clutching. “You know, a stormy winter midnight is far from the ideal time to go fishing.” 

“I wasn’t fishing. I went into town--”

“Seiros, why would you need to go into town? The shops aren’t even open this late, and we have plenty of supplies!” 

“It took longer than I thought. There was still light outside when I left--”

“Byleth, it’s almost twelve! The sun set six hours ago! What in the name of the Goddess did you need to do that took you  _ six hours? _

“Damn it Lin, will you not let me finish? I was getting you a birthday gift! I wanted to surprise you when you woke up!” Byleth was the one to shout this time.

Linhardt’s expression softened immediately. “Well, you sure did give me a surprise. You mean to tell me that you braved a Red Wolf Moon storm just to get me a birthday present?”

“I suppose I did.” Byleth gave him that little smile again, and Linhardt had to stop himself from melting down completely. Instead, he sighed.

“Change out of your clothes before you catch a cold. Do you need me to bring you food?”

Byleth shook his head. Linhardt turned to the fireplace and used magic to start it up. Once Byleth had dried off and changed, they both sat on the floor beside the fire, legs crossed and facing each other. Byleth filled Linhardt in on what happened in town and why it took him so long to get back.

“You’re  _ such  _ a fool, especially for someone who’s supposed to lead a nation.” Linhardt said, his tone both harsh and playful.

“Well, there’s something about you that makes such foolish behavior seem worth it.” Byleth smiled, moving in closer.

Linhardt blushed. “Are you trying to flirt with me after you just scared me half to death?”

“I hope you can forgive me,” Byleth grinned sheepishly. “But wouldn’t it be worse to wake up and realize that your own husband forgot about your birthday?”

“To be honest, I forgot about it myself,”

“Oh? Well, I’m sure you’ll remember tomorrow morning,” Byleth said, pulling the bucket of gifts closer.

“Actually, it’s past twelve. Since it’s now officially the seventh, why don’t I see the gifts now? After all, you worked so hard to get them for me, and the anticipation would prevent me from ever falling asleep.” 

“You’re such a child sometimes, Lin,” Byleth laughed, handing over the bucket. “But I’ll admit, your logic is sound.”

Linhardt gently removed the lid from the bucket. “Amazing! There isn’t a single drop of water in here!"

Byleth let out a sigh of relief as Linhardt pulled out the book.

“Constellations? And it appears to be the latest edition. How did you know that I wanted this?”

“Admittedly, it was just a hunch. I saw it, and I know we both like stars, and… I wanted to hear you read it to me.” Byleth admitted, blushing deeply.

“And you called  _ me _ the child?” Linhardt teased. “But I suppose reading to you doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.”

He pulled out the bags of tea next, taking a few seconds to enjoy their aroma.

“Almyran pine needles? I haven’t been able to find these in ages!”

“I went through hell to get those for you, so I sure hope you enjoy them.”

“Of course I will! And I’m flattered. You’ve known this is my favorite kind of tea since our days at the Officer’s Academy. Back then, I thought you were just a silly schoolboy crush…” Linhardt looked up to see his former professor’s face bright red. “Oh, it wasn’t obvious? Caspar caught on right away, and he wouldn’t let me hear the end of it.”

“I guess it seems quite obvious looking back. But keep in mind, I didn’t know much about romantic feelings, especially at a time when normal emotions were still so new to me.” Byleth said as he crawled behind Linhardt, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I suppose I understand.” Linhardt smiled warmly.

Finally, he pulled out the box of chocolates. A smile spread across his face.

“Well, this is quite romantic,” Linhardt blushed, falling back so that the back of his head hit Byleth’s chest. “But I suppose you’ve always been good at spoiling people on their birthday.”

“Well, how can I resist spoiling my husband?” said Byleth, bending over to plant a kiss on the other man’s forehead.

Lin’s heart skipped a beat, and he twisted around to place his hands on his husband’s chest. Byleth pulled him even closer, placing one hand on his waist and the other on his back. Linhardt felt the cold band of the emerald ring through his nightshirt, and goosebumps spread across his arms. Byleth could smell angelica and pine and fresh ink on his husband’s clothes and hair. 

“I’m glad you did--” Linhardt managed to whisper before Byleth pulled Linhardt down on top of him into a deep kiss, calloused fingers digging into the back of his head.

They were both panting when they pulled away. Linhardt propped himself up, his soft hand caressing Byleth’s cheek. He felt lightheaded, his heart racing as a wave of exhaustion crashed over him. He flopped back onto the floor.

“I… I suppose we should go back to bed right now. You’ve spoiled me quite enough for one day.” he said with a flustered smile.

Byleth stood up, scooping Linhardt into his arms (despite the fact that Linhardt was slightly taller than him, he was very light.) The slender man let out a little yelp, but didn’t fight it as he was carried across the room and set gently on the bed. Byleth bent over and kissed his eyelids, then crawled into bed beside him. They pulled each other in tight, gently rubbing each other’s backs as the anxiety and excitement of the evening melted into a slow languor.

“Happy birthday, my love,” Byleth whispered as he drifted to sleep in his husband’s arms.


End file.
